


Like the Blade of a Knife

by Abalisk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Because what the fuck Kishimoto, Child Soldiers, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, In which we get to see how commoners really feel about militarized boogeyman, In which we take canon to a shed out back, Isekai, Lots of Angst, Ninja are the boogeyman, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Worldbuilding, just in case that wasn't clear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abalisk/pseuds/Abalisk
Summary: It was like falling into a dream and she waited for the day that she would wake up. All of this couldn't be real, it just wasn't possible. But time passes and seasons change and she is left to wonder what her purpose truly is.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Like the Blade of a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> I do not consent to this work or any of my work being uploaded or displayed through third party apps and websites. If you are viewing this work through an app that makes money from advertisements, please close the app and view my work for free on the original Ao3 page.

_ “Beginnings are always hard... _

_ And as time passes, it becomes more difficult to remember all that came before. Only foggy glimpses remind me of where I came from, of who I was. Like cupping sunbeams on the surface of a stream, the light slips through my fingers. _

_ But what I can tell you, is on a thundering day, something strange occurred. _

_ The ground crumbled away… And I fell.” _

xXx

Darkness enveloped her sight as the floor shattered underfoot, an unseen force pulling her down—not by gravity—but like a great hand grasping her torso and ripping her through the bones of the world, shards of tile steadily spinning alongside her. 

She felt sluggish, her frame heavy like it was submerged in water, a coiling force around her body that made breathing a worrying struggle. There was no time to think about why this was happening or where she was going, all she could do was close her eyes and let oblivion take her.

There was no way of knowing how long she lingered in that place...

A sprawling void. 

Emptiness. 

A world of shadows.

No fear gripped her beating heart. No hunger pinched her belly. No thirst parched her throat. All was stagnant, stopped still within the moment. She freefalled in eternity.

Then a voice broke through that shook her to her bones:

**“The storm will lead you home.”**

She tried to reply, openmouthed... Soundless.

But no answer came. 

The threshold of shadows broke and like the flicking of a switch, a roaring, terrible cacophony of sound surrounded and beat against her deprived ears. She cried out, her body tumbling into open air, moisture breaking upon her face as she fell through the bank of clouds. Thunder crackled and lightning arced across the sky in white veins, rain falling in tandem as she hurtled to the earth.

If she could hear herself against the storm, she might have screamed—terror consumed her so. But the wind tore away her voice, whipping it to tatters in an answering roar. 

Waves foamed below and it didn’t take much of a guess that she was careening straight for them.

There was nothing to halt her descent.

Deafening silence engulfed her as she smashed sidelong into the frothy waters, pain lancing through her and air bubbling out of her throat in a silent scream. Clamping her mouth shut, she tried to swim upward, mind roaring in panic, but the left side of her body shrieked in agony and she couldn't even lift her left arm to stroke.

She struggled to kick her feet and sweep with her uninjured arm, the other tucked against her side uselessly. The water was dark all around, a cavern of endless darkness, but she forged ahead nonetheless, not wishing to die here.

_ Not here. Alone, _ she thought. Struggling. Reaching...

Abused lungs screamed for air, a few bubbles forcing their way out between her lips and then—

Her hand dug deeply into silty mud and she felt her stomach drop to her toes.

It was the worst nightmare of sailors and swimmers alike—getting lost in black water. Grandpa Jim had told her horror stories of his time as a fisherman and the dangers associated with diving in storm driven waters.

She tried turning around, but now her body felt sluggish and her lungs caved, mouth opening unbidden to take in water, her throat shutting tightly. Pain burned in her chest and what was left of her vision spun. She looked up, her hand held around her throat and watched as a bright flash briefly broke through the darkness of the water, outlining several dark silhouettes.

_ Someone... save me, _ she pleaded, going limp, chestnut hair drifting like a veil around her face, dancing in rhythm with the seaweed at her side.

_ I don’t want to die… _

Vision tunneling into darkness, she was unaware when a large hand grasped her forearm and yanked her up.

xXx

Ryouichi didn’t even think when he saw the body hit the water, merely acted, shoving his oars into the churning waters and paddling as fast as he could, his powerful arms straining as he set a breakneck pace. Yousuke, his fellow fisherman, shouted encouragement as they rowed, chanting a rowman’s mantra as they both heaved through the harbor, arms working in tandem as they made a beeline for the impact site.

He knew they were hurt, just by the sheer fact that they hadn’t even broken the surface yet, and he wasn’t at all surprised. The impact alone could have killed them. But the closer they drew, the more he was certain that the person was alive. A tiny flickering of a flame stood out in his mind, sinking deeper and deeper into the depths.

They couldn’t wait any longer.

Ignoring his coworker’s cries, Ryouichi stopped rowing, shucked off his kimono and in one fluid motion dove in after the body. The water was a cold shock, but he was used to the feeling, having had to perform many dives like this in his life. A bolt of lightning briefly illuminated the sky above him, his shadow casting an ominous shade into the grasping depths below.

And then it was dark once again, murky even, but Ryouichi was blessed in not having to rely on his eyes as he swam, his senses reaching out as he felt around him. Bursts of life pinged back to him like small flames, little stars in the night.

And the largest one was growing fainter by the moment.

In a burst of speed he swam down to the depths, the dim light flickering weakly along the muddy bottom and growing larger as he quickly drew closer. A child. Wasting little time, Ryouichi grabbed the nearest limb and pulled, kicking up with all his strength, the drag of the body making him work harder to swim them both up.

Bubbles issued forth from his lips as he let a little air escape, cradling the small body to his chest as they ascended. Their pulse was weak. Their air—gone. They were completely unconscious.

Just where was the damn surface?

The next moments were excruciatingly long and frantic, Ryouichi’s legs aching as he kicked as hard as he could, reaching for that precious air. His lungs had run out. He could somewhat sense Yousuke as they rose, his signature worrying about in the boat a few meters up. They were close.

Air never tasted so sweet as Ryouichi broke the surface, gulping it down as he grabbed on to Yousuke’s proffered oar, shouting words indecipherable in the howling wind. The child… the girl, he noticed did not make a sound. Her lips were blue and face pale as she seemingly slept peacefully.

But Ryouichi knew better and he swiftly hauled her into the boat with all his strength, Yousuke standing on the opposite side to keep balance as he boarded. Her skin was too cold. Too clammy.

He felt her pulse, noting that it was beginning to slow further. Tilting her head back and plugging her nose, Ryouichi took a deep breath and brought his mouth to hers, forcing air into her lungs. He then moved her head to the side and began chest compressions, counting to fifteen with each push, before taking another deep breath and repeating his previous motions.

It was torturous, watching her body jerk with every press of his palm, her limp head lolling about lifelessly. She was so young. So frail. Ryouichi felt tears in his eyes as she still lay limp, his compressions growing more aggressive as he just willed her to breath.

Too often had he seen this exact moment. Too often were children taken by the sea.

It never got easier.

“Come on, girl. Come on,” Ryouichi huffed, eyes misting as his throat closed up. He could still feel her… teetering on the edge. “Breathe for me.”

He was still pressing even when he felt that small flame wither, his choked cries breaking loose as he pleaded.  _ Begged _ .

“Ryouichi…” Yousuke urged, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder in quiet solidarity.

The chest compressions stopped and Ryouichi wept, bowing himself over a child he didn’t even know. His heart breaking for her. He thumped his forehead against her chest as the sorrow took him, his large hands reaching out to cradle her close.

But then, a wet, choking cough broke through and Ryouichi gasped as he felt her life flare bright like the rising sun, her chest spasming as she choked. He quickly sat up and rolled the girl over so that the water could escape, seawater flowing out in painful lurches as she emptied her lungs. She took deep, shuddering breaths between coughs, utterly shaken by her near death experience and heaved hard, her arms shaking uncontrollably as she attempted to stay up while retching. 

“Oh, thank the heavens!” Yousuke cheered, his voice rough with emotion, “It’s a miracle!”

“It certainly is,” Ryouichi agreed, grabbing up his kimono and draping it over her shoulders in an attempt to keep her warm, the storm above clearly doing her no favors.

“I’ll get us to the docks, make sure she stays warm!” Yousuke scrambled to grab his oars, happy that it all hadn't been for nothing.

The girl looked up at Ryouichi then between damp brown tresses, her hazel eyes showing what he could only assume was gratitude and exhaustion. 

Ryouichi smiled down at her. “Are you okay?”

The girl blinked at him a few times, as if not comprehending what he’d said, before her eyes rolled back and she slumped. Ryouichi caught her before she landed in her own vomit and brought her close to his chest, wrapping the kimono tight and cradling her to keep warm. “Well, you're still breathing... I suppose that's one good sign,” he muttered to the sleeping child.

Standing up with the girl in his arms, Ryouichi waved to the people on the shoreline to reassure them that everything was well. People cheered audibly in response, the sound just loud enough to carry through the storm and started making their way to the dock; all too eager to see the face of the mysterious figure everyone had no doubt seen crash into their harbor. Nothing strange  _ ever _ happened in Kamaboko Village. So this event was surely to be gossiped about for a long while.

Meanwhile, as he waited for them to dock, Ryouichi inspected the strange girl. Her height and build indicated she was at least in her early teens, maybe younger. She didn’t  _ look _ like a shinobi, not with those strange clothes or lack of muscle mass, but then he wasn’t an expert—Others would know better.

Once the vessel drew near enough, some men threw out ropes to tie it down and pull it closer to shore, the storm appearing to be getting worse with each passing moment.

Jumping to the dock, Ryouichi ventured to wade his way through the throng of people surrounding him, everyone wanting to get a better look at the stranger. Questions upon questions piled upon him as they pushed and shoved to get a glimpse, buffeting the poor fisherman back and forth.

“Is it a shinobi?”

“A child?”

“Oh, it’s a little girl…”

“Is she alright?”

Ryouichi pushed them aside, his voice barking through the sound of the squall, “Hey!  _ Hey! _ Everyone out of the way,” he said, shoving one person into the water when their curiosity got the best of them and they slithered in too close. “She needs to see the physician! Step aside!” 

Finally, some of the crowd started to get the idea, perhaps in part to avoid taking an involuntary dip in the cold water. The mob fractured, bringing others with them so that by the time Ryouichi left the dock he had a path clear to the village proper.

Light rain continuously pelted Ryouichi's head as he ran through the village streets and it wasn't long before it grew into a torrential downpour. Lightning continued to clash in the sky above and the man drew the girl ever closer, for fear that the rain would bring her closer to death from cold. The left side of her body tensed and a soft whine of pain emanated from her throat, which Ryouichi pointedly ignored in his haste—knowing all-too-well that it was imperative she reached the clinic.

The rain pelted down in a wash, obscuring vision and forcing many people lingering in the streets to find shelter indoors. He tried with very little success to shield the girl with his body and the enveloping cloth of his kimono, but the skies were relentless. And by the time he even saw the building that was his destination, both of them were completely drenched.

When he reached the clinic entrance, Ryouichi was hurried inside by his sister, Airi, the sight of her easing his concerns somewhat as she was the most sensible one in their family.

Apparently having heard what all the ruckus was about, Airi was completely prepared to receive their unusual guest; promptly slamming the door in any remaining onlooker’s face and drawing the curtains. 

“Here,” she uttered briskly, leading Ryouichi across the room and over to a spare bed meant for patients, staunchly ignoring the rivers of water he was trailing in, “Set her down. Hideki-sensei should be here to take a look at her in a moment.”

Gently, Ryouichi complied and rested the mystery child on the downy blankets, her young face the epitome of calm. He noticed that she seemed to favor her left arm, the limb held close to her thin body just below her chest. 

_ Her clothing is strange. _ Ryouichi wondered, eyes flickering over her state of dress, the material soaked and sticking to her skin. It wasn’t terribly different from their clothes, but the design, the cut of the cloth just seemed skewed. Wrong. Out of place.

Airi tapped on Ryouichi's shoulder and broke him out of his thought process, he stared down at her with a questioning look. “Could you wait outside and give her some privacy? I need to remove her wet clothes,” she said, her lips thinning as she took in the girl’s waterlogged state.

“Ah... Yeah, of course,” he said, promptly excusing himself. Airi slid the door panel closed with a snap behind him, busily muttering to herself.

Ryouichi trailed awkwardly to the dining room, his body aches finally catching up to him as he tiredly peeled his own wet clothes off. He dried with a towel Airi had left at the table, donning the medical garb she’d left out for him. It was wonderfully warm, and Ryouichi could only smile at his sister’s thoughtfulness, realizing she’d heated the garments over the stove before they’d arrived.

Flopping into the nearest chair, Ryouichi felt himself relax. He didn't even move when the physician, Hideki-sensei, staggered in totally soaked from the storm outside, completely ignoring him as he shed his cloak and tottered to the patient's room, quickly shutting himself inside.

He was alone once again. 

Silence reigned, aside from the pounding rain on the roof above and the occasional sharp syllables that slipped between the cracks of the door, the room was deathly quiet… Eerily so.

But still, Ryouichi found his mind drifting to the girl and wondered where she came from as his eyes slipped closed. He hoped she was alright one final time before sleep washed over him like the ocean's waves.

xXx

A smell of flowers and the saline scent of sea air was what greeted her weary senses when her mind returned from slumber. 

She heard gulls cackling and water dripping, a gentle breeze brushing against her cheek. Skylar opened her eyes sluggishly, the warm glow of the open window illuminating her face and causing her to squint in a moment of pain as the light reached her eyes.

Turning her head away from the window, she took a bleary look at her surroundings and was not terribly sure what to make of them. Her futon was on the floor, shunted to the corner and surrounded by long curtains, the smell of disinfectant and clean linen reminding her of a hospital.

She blinked and tried to sit up, but a sharp stab of pain through her left arm made her gasp and take pause, pulling up the white sleeve of her robe. Looking down at the limb, she noticed that it had been splinted, long rods of wood keeping her arm straight while gauze kept the arrangement in place. 

Skylar paused significantly as she stared at her arm, mind a little blank and very much confused. She’d never broken a bone in her life, and to have had it happen now came as a bit of a shock.

Attempting to sit up again, albeit more carefully this time, she gritted her teeth as some of her muscles screamed in protest and a dull ache formed on the left side of her body. She gasped when her tendons locked up and she took a moment to breath, the cramp easing a little as she stretched the ligaments into a workable state. Once fully vertical, she took a moment to clean out the grit and sand from her eyes, the sharp material pinching almost painfully as she cleared it away from the raw skin.

“Awful” didn’t even begin to describe how she felt.

Every part of her ached or burned in some way, and she would not be surprised if there were more broken bones than just the one on her arm, maybe even dislocated joints. It was a miracle she wasn't  _ dead _ .

Shaking her head to rid herself of that negative line of thought, she took another look around the room in a bit of a daze.  _ How did I get here? _ she wondered, her eyes taking in some of the foreign elements. It all looked so…  _ different. _

A painting that she hadn't noticed before had some sort of characters written vertically down one side, the illustration appeared to be of a mountainous village. Several decorative fans donned another of the walls, their bright colors a contrast to the otherwise plain room. The floor was made of fibrous mats and one of the “walls” looked to be made of paper panels.

_ Maybe that’s the door? _ she wondered.

Tentatively, she eased onto her feet and made her way towards the panels, her legs wobbling unsteadily with each step.  _ Might have sprained something, _ she thought, just as a particularly painful jolt stabbed into her left thigh, making her stumble into a wall.  _ Okay, maybe not “just” a sprain. Ow! _ She hissed, a few deep breaths needed to regain her composure. 

Massaging her hip and left knee helped some, but didn’t make the pain disappear completely, a closer look under her clothes showed that she had a literal swath of mottled dark purple bruising that took up the whole of her left side, starting at her thigh and ending at her shoulder. Without a mirror she couldn’t tell if her face was bruised either, but a gentle prod at the area was all she needed to tell her that even that didn’t come away unscathed. It took a few minutes before she felt confident enough to start walking again, tears stinging her eyes, finally sliding open the screen to see what lay beyond.

A man stood before her.

She jolted in surprise and backed up a few paces, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. From the man's similar reaction, however, it could only be assumed that he hadn't been expecting her to be there either, as he stared at her with wide eyes. For a moment they stood in silence, her eyes darting erratically over the man's features.

At first, it was the clothing that caught her attention as it was similar to her own. He looked to be in his early to mid twenties; though she'd never been a particularly great judge of age. His body was thick with a few faint scars dotting his tan skin, his face angular and almost square-like, with what appeared to be five o'clock shadow covering his jaw. A mess of short ash brown hair, poked out above a plain bandana wrapped around his forehead.

She only came up to his stomach, which was a bit disconcerting as she was used to being rather tall for her age. Who knew they built people so big?

Dark, kind eyes closed as the man gave a friendly grin and spoke.

“Ohayo gozaimasu, hajimemashite,” he said, scratching the stubble on his cheek as his lips twisted into a wry smile, “yoku nemure mashitaka?”

Skylar blinked in confusion. “Um,” she started, then coughed abruptly when her throat rasped, a bitter bile taste on her tongue, “I don’t—I don’t know what you said…”

His expression fell and Skylar didn’t have to wonder if he understood that, because his next words and body language told her plenty. A meaty hand coming up to rub the back of his head sheepishly. “Aa— Sumimasen, wakaranai…”

She could only hope that her flat look was enough to tell him that his efforts were meaningless.

It was clear that the place she had the unfortunate pleasure of crash landing in, was far away from home. The decor tipped her off at first, but then this guy and his speech confirmed it. She really was an alien in a foreign land.

_ I mean, how often do you see random people fall out of the sky? _ she couldn’t help but wonder, letting the kindly man escort her to a chair as her leg prevented her from doing anything other than limp.

This pain was nothing though—she would endure it gladly, knowing that she at least survived the fall; because nothing short of a miracle should have allowed that to happen.

The room they entered was modest and clinically tidy, a few sparse decorative elements here and there with some reading material on display for visitors.  _ Feels like waiting room, _ she mused, letting her eyes roam over the picture frames and ceramic vases.

The man motioned her into a seat, the padding on the wooden chair pleasant against the ache of her leg. Fussing around to make sure she was comfortable, he draped what she could only guess to be another shirt or jacket over her shoulders. The scratchy green material smelled so much like brine and old fish that she wrinkled her nose.

_ This is clean, right? _

An ingrained politeness prevented her from just shrugging off the jacket, knowing that if she did it might offend the man, who may or may not have spent a lot of time making sure she was well. There was no telling how long she’d slept or even what the date was. 

_ Why did this even happen? What brought me here and why? _

Valid questions to be sure, someone had to have a hand in this, as any other reason seemed too bizarre. She couldn’t have imagined that sensation of being grabbed no matter how much the scenario turned over in her mind. Something  _ chose  _ her, out of everyone in the population and plopped her down here without a care for her safety, or even if she survived for that matter.

_ If this is some joke, _ she seethed, gritting her teeth when a burst of anger boiled her blood,  _ I’m going to hurt them really bad. Who do they think they are to take me away from home and— _

Abruptly, she turned from hot to cold, throat tightening when it occurred to her. She tried to swallow around the lump and stifle the growing panic.  _ What happened to Mom and Da— _

A polite “ahem” caught her attention and successfully derailed that particular train of thought, alerting her that she was still not alone. The tension in her chest loosened minutely, giving her some relief. This was a thought better revisited later, when she was alone… She didn’t fancy breaking down crying in front of a stranger.

Blinking over at the man, who was now crouched over a chair that seemed just a tad too small for him, she frowned when he grinned and spoke, “Ryouichi  tomōshimasu .”

Sighing through her nose was the only response she could muster. Explaining again that she didn’t understand in her own language clearly wasn’t getting anywhere with this guy.

Unfazed, the man changed tactics. “Ryouichi desu,” he said, pointing his thumb to himself. When he saw her furrow her brows he repeated the motion patiently and emphasised slowly to string out the pronunciation, “Ryou-i-chi.”

_ Oh. _

Turning so that she fully faced him and imitating his gesture, she recited, “Skylar.”

The man, Ryouichi, beamed like he’d won the lottery, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling happily. He rubbed his chin and said, “Sukaira... Kawaii namae desu ne!”

_ I’m assuming that’s a compliment? _ Skylar mused with a tilt of her head, pursing her lips for a moment before she scowled.  _ He got my name wrong... _

Skylar didn’t get a chance to correct him, as the front door opened with such a resounding snap that both of them nearly leapt off of their chairs in surprise. The interesting thing was Ryouichi seemed balk at the angry looking blonde woman that stomped into the room, her severe expression pinning him to his chair as effectively as nailing him to it would.

Though when the woman focused that withering gaze on her, Skylar happily would have declined having so much attention.

The following conversation between the two seemed to fall into bickering and it wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that it was about her, considering all the arm waving and pointing the two did. At first, Skylar thought that they might have been married, but the more she observed their conversation the more she began to doubt that theory. The informal familiarity was there but their faces were awfully similar, so it may be closer to assume they were cousins.

When the woman put Ryouichi in a headlock she got her answer.  _ Yeah, they are definitely related... _

Sneaking out of the clinic proved to be pretty easy when two people were arguing loudly, and Skylar promptly made her getaway while the adults were distracted, careful not to shuffle with her injured side. She really wasn’t the biggest fan of loud voices and angry tones. Not that she would have understood them to being with, but it was clear they were undergoing a “very important discussion” and she was going to give them space. Besides, there was a whole new place to discover and see just what sort of situation she landed in.

Slowly though, because her body still hurt like hell.

Not wanting to go barefoot, Skylar nixed someone’s sandals out of the shoebox by the door, hoping that they won’t mind allowing her to borrow them. She was anxious and excited at the same time, two emotions warring with each other that unhelpfully tied her stomach into confused knots.

It also didn’t help that the door signified cementing this reality, that the moment she stepped outside everything would be permanent. Foolish though it was, Skylar could not help the illogical thoughts and it almost stilled her movements completely.

Almost. But not quite.

Curiosity won out and she slid open the panel slowly to not attract attention and then slipped through into the bright sunlight.

Blinking against the brilliance and raising her hand against it to shade her eyes, it took a few moments for Skylar to fully see what lay before her, the dim lighting of the clinic a stark contrast to the outside. Sound bombarded her ears as people bustled about the square, men and women standing behind stalls hawking their wares with bright colors and loud voices. Young children scrambled underfoot or in general made a nuisance of themselves as they played. People haggled with the vendors. The smell of frying food wafted through the air. Chickens warbled from within wicker cages.

The sound.

The smell.

The color.

The culture.

It was all wrong.

She was already running by the time she realized her breathing was coming out in shallow uneven gasps. The pain in her muscles and hip screaming for her to stop despite the seed of panic on her chest.

_ It’s different. It’s wrong, _ she lamented, shaking her head. _ Wrong. Wrong. Wrong! I have to go back! I need to go home! I want my mom! I want Dad! _ Almost tripping over a rock, it took her a few steps to stumble and catch her balance, almost crying out as her injuries hissed at the effort. Skylar gasped for breath, a persistent buzzing in her skull like a nest of disturbed hornets stifled her hearing, making it impossible to focus.

There might have been an exclamation from someone, but she pushed on before they could take her back to the clinic. She didn’t want to go back there. She wanted to go  _ home. _ Skylar ran as far as her legs could take her, the unfamiliar faces around her blending into an unidentifiable mass. Nothing was the same. Nothing was familiar. It was wrong.

The world was wrong.

Maybe she was bringing attention to herself and she might have bowled someone over in her haste, but at the moment Skylar really didn’t care. The only thought that pushed through the incessant drone in her brain was returning to where she came from.

And that was how her wild wandering led her to the damp sandy beach of the harbor, her toes stinging as the waves washed over her feet and up to her ankles, the bitter cold sending a shock up her spine. 

When Skylar finally registered where she ended up, she staggered with a yelp, backing away from the water with a fear that she was certain never had been present before. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm that overbore the buzzing and her stomach clenched. The water seemed to loom like a giant on the horizon and Skylar quailed against its presence.

She almost drowned there.

And while it  _ was _ the way she came in, it was impossible to determine if the same route would bring her back. Unless she had the power of flight, there was no way she would be able to access the portal, and even then there was no guarantee the gate would be there waiting.

Home had never seemed so far out of her grasp.

She took a moment to allow her heartbeat to slow, breathing deeply to tamp down on her anxiety.  _ The water is over there. I’m safe right here, _ Skylar thought, forcing herself to look at the sea and try not to think of it like a living entity. Because it wasn’t. It couldn’t hurt her where she stood.

Crouching on her heels, Skylar watched the sun play off the water’s surface, the light glittering in a near blinding array of subtle color as it bisected the sea all the way to the horizon. The air was clearer here, unlike her home— _ purer _ in a way that an industrialized world had not seen in centuries. It allowed her to see farther than ever before, the skyline a crisp border separating the sky from the earth and water.

It was beautiful.

Brisk wind right off the water found its way to her, making Skylar clutch her arms close to her body as the air tousled her long hair and fluffed her clothes. Shivering, she pulled the jacket that Ryouichi gave her a little bit tighter around her shoulders, now regretting that she didn’t have better clothes. She felt just a bit exposed with only the patient garb to clothe her, the material a little too thin to give proper warmth.

_ Cold. If I was home I wouldn’t be cold at all, it was warm there. _ Skylar thought, snuggling deep into the faintly fishy jacket, her face nearly disappearing into the fabric as she pulled it up and over her head as a makeshift tent.

Objectively, she might have looked a little silly, but now the rest of her was warm and the wind couldn’t reach her toes. She was happy that the man who gave her the coat had been so big, the size made it a perfect cocoon.

_ Mom and Dad are probably wondering where I went, _ she reasoned, tracing a finger in the sand next to her feet, sketching out a pair of large square glasses. Her dad’s glasses. He couldn’t see without them and they made his tiny eyes stand out huge on the glass because of the magnification. Mom always teased him about it, saying he was as “blind as a bat and looked like one too.”

Skylar felt something wet roll down her nose even as she giggled at the memory, her father’s aghast expression always a comical experience. The tear dripped onto her hand as it paused in its handiwork. She wasn’t the best artist, but Skylar thought she at least got the beard right. It was a bit uneven and bare in some places, as Dad couldn’t really grow a proper one.

He always looked a little scruffy, but Mom said that was a part of his roguish charm. Whatever that meant.

More tears filled her eyes when she focused efforts on drawing her mother and she hastily wiped them away so she could focus properly. Mom constantly said that if they both grew out their hair to be the same length, they’d look like sisters. Skylar didn’t know how much of that was true, because her mother was always sarcastic and it was sometimes hard to tell when she wasn’t. 

But Mom had short hair, so that was how she drew her.

Gulping down a heavy lump in her throat, Skylar looked upon the two drawings of her parents’ faces, committing the sand effigies to memory. Hoarsely she said, “Come find me, okay?”

Because she knew they would, her Mom and Dad would tear down heaven and earth to find her if she ever got lost.  _ They always said they would. _

She took a shuddering breath, a seed of doubt blossoming against her will.  _ What if they can’t? What if I’m too far away for them to find me? What if I never see them again? _

Skylar felt like a stone replaced her heart, the weight sinking to her stomach. She clenched her teeth as the tears came in force, no matter how much she rebelled against the action.  _ I’m a big girl… I’m eleven years old and big kids don’t cry, _ she sobbed, angry with herself and scared in the face of the unknown,  _ I can be brave. Dad always says that I need to be brave. _

Biting her lip, Skylar shivered, her breath hiccupping in an attempt to stifle sound.  _ It’s not fair… I wanna go home. _

_ Mama…  _

Sand shifted in a steady rhythm, making Skylar still temporarily at the sound. Someone was coming. She considered getting up to run, but her legs were really tired now from all the crouching she’d been doing and Skylar didn’t have it in her to try. Too tired from the pain in both body and heart.

So she allowed herself to fall back on her rump, not intending to go anywhere.

“Sukaira-chan, daijōbu desu ka?” A familiar deep voice called, making Skylar flinch and try to quiet herself more. It was Ryouichi. She didn’t want him to see her crying.

“Go away,” she said, her voice watery despite all that effort. A whimper escaped her throat and she bit down on one of her knuckles, making a couple hiccups wrack her body.

“Aa...  tsurai deshou ne,” he replied with something she obviously wouldn’t understand. 

She didn’t actually think he cared, he was a complete stranger. So what does one lost girl matter in the grand scheme of things? But Skylar was promptly proven wrong however when he sat next to her, throwing what felt like a blanket over her shoulders. Gently, as if picking up a small rabbit, Ryouichi pulled Skylar close into a single-armed hug, drawing her in and rubbing a soothing hand along her side.

“ Daijōbu da. Daijōbu da,” he muttered in a reassuring tone, rocking back and forth, “Sore wa taihen na no wa wakaru.” He might have said something else after that, but Skylar didn’t hear the words through the soft wail she unleashed.

“I wanna go home! I just wanna go home,” she cried, not caring that the man couldn’t interpret her words and grabbing at his side for some measure of reassurance, “I want my dad and— And— My mom… And— And,” Skyler choked, coughing a bit as saliva clogged her throat. “I don’t wanna be here,” she finished lamely with a rasp.

Her eyes caught his momentarily and he looked so kind and reassuring that she didn’t have the heart to yell at him for invading her space.

Embarrassed, she hid her face and wiped it on her sleeve, but didn’t pull away. She needed someone kind enough to act as her rock.

He gave her head a silent pat.

They stayed like that for some time, just listening to the waves crash upon the shore, the gulls jabbering as they fought over sea scraps. Skylar, after she got herself under control, idly gazed at the driftwood or other sea debris, already having exhausted her emotional quota for the day.

Ryouichi allowed her to rest in silence, perhaps realizing that she needed it in the moment, or maybe because he just didn’t have anything to say.

Skylar appreciated it, no matter his reasons.

“Ee? Sukaira-chan, kore wa nan desu ka?” Ryouichi softly stated after what felt like an age, finally breaking the silence.

Blinking up at him, Skylar followed the motions of his arm, the large hand pointing out the scrawls she’d made on the sand. Frowning when she saw her dad’s beard slightly smudged, Skylar leaned over and redrew the lines, making sure that neither the coat’s sleeves or the blanket scattered them further. She gave a shuddering sniffle as her finger dragged through the sand, her sorrow having not loosened its grip in the slightest.

Ryouichi made a noncommittal hum while he watched her work, leaning forward so he could see. When she glanced at him through red-rimmed eyes he smiled and pointed down at the drawing, “Dare ga desu ka?”

Staring at his finger for a moment, Skylar’s eyes widened before pointing at the drawing herself. “Papa,” she said, scratching out the word under the picture, then moved over to the second, “Mama.”

The man made a noise that sounded like realization, his dark eyes lighting up before giving her another grin. Pointing at her father’s drawing again he stated, “Sukaira-chan no Otousan,” then moved his finger over to the picture of her mother, “...to Okaasan.”

Skylar furrowed her brow, trying out the word in her mind before pointing at her mother and saying, “Tokasan…?”

He chuckled, his shoulders quivering with the effort and shook his head. “Iie.” Repeating his previous motions he simplified it further.

“Otousan.” Dad.

“Okaasan.” Mom.

“O-tou...san?” Sounding out the word slowly, Skylar traced along the furrows in the sand, only looking up to Ryouichi when she needed confirmation that it sounded right. His encouraging nod pushed her to continue. “O-kaa-san.”

“Hai,” he confirmed, giving a couple of tiny claps with his large hands. A miraculously quiet feat considering it looked like he could tear a king crab in half. Barehanded. He had the looks of a gentle personality, but the scars on his arms from fish hooks and who knows what else told a different tale.

Skylar gave a quivering sigh, her chest still tight. It would take more than just a bonding moment between strangers to get her over her grief. Her family was still out there. Somewhere.

She had to find a way home.

Ryouichi gave a sigh of his own before standing up with a grunt, his joints popping audibly as he did so, which made Skylar wince. After patting down his rear and legs to get the sand clinging to his clothes off, the man gave a friendly smile and reached his hand down, palm facing up in a ‘I’ll help you stand’ gesture.

She didn’t need to be told twice, she knew they had to go back to the village. She just didn’t want to.

However, with one last forlorn look at the drawing of her parents, Skylar understood there was no other way. If she were to be rescued, the smart thing to do would be to stay in the place that she arrived, to wait for her parents to come and take her home.

It was irrational.

But what had been rational about this whole event?

Skylar placed her faith in Ryouichi, trusting that the man would take care of her. With this in mind, she grasped his hand and noted that her hand barely filled the dip of his palm. 

She could not help the feeling of finality as his fingers closed over hers.

xXx

“Absolutely not!”

Ryouichi winced at his sister’s tone, her biting voice echoing about the council chamber, causing a slew of murmurs to follow in its wake. Everyone was aware of Airi’s temper, it was hard not to be when she was the apprentice of the only surgeon in the village. It was nearly legendary. One way or another, someone got to experience her wrath in whatever form it took.

And it seemed today was to be especially venomous.

Nishimura, an old man on the council didn’t seem to get the hint, his voice cutting through the cacophony with practiced ease, “Now Airi-san be reasonable—”

_ “Reasonable!” _ Airi interrupted with a hiss, her flinty eyes nearly sparking aflame in the dim light. Ryouichi subtly scooted back on his cushion. “You think it  _ reasonable _ to damn a child—a child! Need I remind you—to an unknown fate in the hands of shinobi, merely because you fear what she could do? Have you even  _ seen _ her?”

“It would be for the safety of the village and the good interest of its people,” he countered, his white mustache practically bristling in indignation. 

Airi scoffed rudely at this pronouncement, the room at large nearly riotous. Men and women from each family whispered furiously to one another, clearly split on the councilman’s decision.

But it was not over yet.

“Ryouichi-san,” a worn voice croaked, making everyone in the chamber still into silence, the man in question sitting up straighter as the wizened woman next to Nishimura spoke to him directly, “What is your assessment of the girl? You have spent the most time thus far in her presence… What do you make of the child?”

All was quiet as Ryouichi mulled things over, every eye pointed to him, the atmosphere nearly stifling in anticipation. He recalled the longing gaze as she stared at the sand depictions of her parents. The fear in her eyes when they drew closer to the village that afternoon. And the tears that slid down her face when she looked back at the ocean.

He sighed. “She just wants to go home, Ruka-sama,” Ryouichi said, closing his eyes and remembering the genuine wonder in her face as he taught her how to say ‘mother’ and ‘father’ in their language, “But I don’t foresee any danger coming from her, at least not intentionally.”

Mutterings started up at that and Ryouichi had to staunchly ignore the glare his sister pointed at him, but it grew quiet again when Ruka raised a placating hand. “Please, elaborate further if you will, Ryouichi-san.”

“Of course.” He nodded, threading his fingers together in a contemplative pose. “For one she is foreign, that much is clear in the language she speaks and overall behavior. If she is not aware of our customs then it could cause potential problems.”

“I see…” Ruka stated, tapping out the pipe she retrieved from her robes, “So your suggestion is that she be educated.”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

Ryouichi stiffened, wondering if he should even point out the next issue, as it could be potentially the most damning. If he had discussed things beforehand with Airi, he might have had a better idea, but at the moment he was stuck.

“You are stalling, Ryouichi-san,” Nishimura grumbled, his mustache quivering.

_ Decrepit old bat, now you’ve put me on the spot. _ “It has come to my attention that the girl has a substantial amount of power,” he said, wincing internally for the inevitable chaos that was about to descend.

He was not disappointed, a riot of noise followed that statement, the crowd practically boiling with aghast exclamations and paranoid murmurs. Ryouichi tried to ignore the simmering rage next to him, his sister practically spitting curses under her breath. He hadn’t intentionally hidden the information from her, but there just hadn’t been enough time to disclose it. Not while they were scrambling to keep the girl alive and certainly not right before the council meeting.

Still, it didn’t prevent Ryouichi from cursing at himself for being born a sensor.

His range with the skill was hardly impressive as he had no formal training, but he could at least detect someone within a ten meter radius and what he’d sensed from the child had been nothing short of mind boggling.

It was like staring into the sun.

A very unstable one at that.

Her chakra fluctuated wildly, much like the other untrained citizens of Kamaboko Village, but the scale between each burst was far greater and more untamed. While the people around her were more like flickering candles that were hardly noticed, Sukaira on the other hand was almost blinding in comparison. Ryouichi deemed himself lucky that he actually couldn’t  _ see _ chakra in the literal sense, unlike those shinobi rumored to live in Konohagakure. He couldn’t imagine what pain it might induce if one actually saw one of her chakra bursts.

His headache was bad enough.

Nishimura appeared to be having a difficult time quieting the crowd, his voice doing little to cut through the noise. Ruka on the other hand seemed to be merely amused by the ruckus, but Ryouichi wouldn’t put it past the ancient woman to live for the trouble caused by the younger generations, she had very little to entertain herself with otherwise.

When she felt the discord run its course however, Ruka easily intervened, her weathered face contorting into a scowl and her voice rising into a roar,  _ “Silence!” _

The clamor died.

“Very good,” Ruka said with a simper, her body only giving a minor tremor when she settled back on her seat, “With so much excitement these past couple of days, it’s a wonder anyone can think straight.”

Nishimura sputtered indignantly, “R-ruka-sama this is not an issue to be taken lightly!”

Ruka raised a languid brow, her amused smile twisting her features like pottery clay. “I doubt it’s as big a deal as you are making it. Sure the girl has power, but so does every shinobi and samurai on this war-torn continent.”

“But the shinobi will come for her if she’s here!” someone in the crowd shrieked, a murmur of assent following this statement.

“The shinobi,” Ruka began, her loud voice once again slicing through the chamber, “Will come whether the child stays or not. The war is on our doorstep, has  _ been  _ on our doorstep for some time. Denying the inevitable is the fool’s way and this child will not change that.”

“If what Ryouichi-san says is true though—” Nishimura started, but ground to a halt when Ruka raised a silencing hand in his face.

“Do you understand how truly rare a chakra sensor is?” the woman challenged, no longer smiling. Rheumy eyes cast about the room as she searched for anyone who would refute her claim, her face hard. “The chances of shinobi discovering the child having chakra is remote and the chances of her being drafted even less so. She would have to be trained. Training takes time. Time requires money. And as we are all aware, the shinobi villages have  _ both _ in short supply right now.”

No one said a word, though someone did cough in the back.

The smile returned and Ruka sweetly added, “So just relax and try to get to know our new guest. She’s as anxious to meet us all as you are anxious to meet her, I’m sure.”

Ryouichi grimaced at her double meaning, having a feeling he knew what was coming next.

“Bring her in.”

Heads swivelled en masse to the double doors behind them, the wooden panels sliding aside to admit the chamber assistant and his diminutive companion.

No one missed the gasp that fell from her lips.

Nor the aborted half-step back she attempted in order to flee, but the assistant’s hand on her shoulder prevented that. She jumped when the door slid shut behind her and she darted her eyes about at every angle, looking for all intents and purposes like a trapped animal.

Ryouichi could see, even from where he was seated at the front, that her pupils were so large they made her eyes look black.

He frowned.

Standing so that he could be seen above the crowd, Ryouichi called across the room, “Sukaira-chan.”

She whipped her head around so fast he was surprised it didn’t snap her neck.

Smiling, he motioned for her to come over, making small sweeping gestures with his hand in hopes that she would understand his meaning. It seemed to work, as she stepped away from the assistant to make her way over to him, steadily making her path down the central aisle to the chamber floor.

All the while the assembly of men and women craned their heads to match her pace, as silent as a grave. To her credit, Sukaira didn’t run in a blind panic, but it was still clear that an internal war was going on within. Her shoulders hunched and her hands trembled while she wrung her fingers to death, lips thin and pressed together.

Ryouichi tried not to wince as her energy built up into a steady whine.

When she finally made it to his side, Ryouichi gave her an affectionate head pat, his headache easing when her chakra calmed down to a more normal level. Gesturing, he knelt back down, scooting over into Airi’s space so that a little bit of room was left on the cushion. He patted the space provided, a silent entreat that she sit.

Sukaira seemed to happily oblige, nearly stuffing herself into his armpit to avoid the stares.

He really couldn’t blame her.

Ruka gave a creaky chuckle from her podium, her lined face seeming to pinch into that oh-so-familiar grandmotherly smile. “What a quiet little mouse she is, though I doubt it will remain that way once she is fully educated in our language. What were the extent of her injuries?”

Airi answered immediately, “Most of the worst was on her left side due to colliding with the water. A fractured arm. Dislocated hip. Severe bruising. But otherwise she’s fine, no ruptured organs or torn ligaments. I expect she’ll make a full recovery.” 

The crowd mumbled, stirring like a ball of irritable bees. Ryouichi felt Sukaira still, her breathing almost nonexistent. Without a word, he draped his arm around her, letting his sleeve act as a visual buffer against the eyes of the masses. He heard her let out a long breath.

Ruka simply cackled. “If that’s all she came away with, then the girl’s a tough one. She’ll fit in just fine here. Chakra can certainly do amazing things...” When no one had anything to contribute to that statement, she nodded to herself and seemed to inflate with a self-important air. “Now that everyone is gathered, we can begin in earnest.  _ Ryouichi-san and Airi-san _ ,” at her hard tone the two siblings noticeably stiffened at the same time, sitting just a little bit straighter, “Do you, formally, take this child under your care?”

“Yes,” Ryouichi stated with a servile nod, his voice loud even over the din, giving the young girl at his side a reassuring squeeze, “I was prepared the moment I gave her the breath of life.”

“I second my brother’s statement,” Airi spoke, lips set in a thin line, “We will treat her as our own.”

“Then the matter is settled.” Ruka smiled, her craggy grin like the splitting of a ravine. “Congratulations, you are now officially Sukaira’s guardians. May good fortune bless you all.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revision for one of the first Naruto fanfictions I've written and has been set on the backburner and put to a slow simmer for a few years now. I think I'm finally happy with how it's turned out.


End file.
